The Masquerade
by Slytherin Kunoichi
Summary: It may have been Halloween--but they weren’t fooling anyone.


**The Masquerade**

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She didn't understand how she had gotten roped into attending the Halloween Costume Charity Ball. These fancy-dressy, type of things, weren't her style. But the famous three man team (though only one member was male), Mrs. Kent, Clark and Lois, had managed to guilt trip her into going, to which she kept adamantly insisting her presence here was against her own will.

But even if it wasn't her scene, she couldn't deny the appeal, or why every wealthy A-list player, senator, and reporter had to get into this party.

Both the dim lighting, and the twinkling rope lights made the room glow like a scene from a movie. The atmosphere was of mystery, and intrigue, over the normal terror and fear themed Halloween parties. The music shifted between different genres and beats, making the girls with expensive long dresses straight out of the medieval times or a Jane Austen novel, dance both gracefully, with fluid motions, and slow, as they picked up the skirts of their dresses during the occasional upbeat songs.

Chloe didn't dance to any of the songs. She made up the excuse it was because of her dress if the song had more of a fast pace, and her reasoning for not swaying to the slow songs, was being present with the lack of a date. So she had moved to stand near the large punch bowl, which she was currently suspecting was spiked, because she could not be correctly seeing what her green eyes had just stumbled upon.

Oliver Queen, the billionaire playboy that loved to dress in leather (even when the calendar date wasn't October thirty-first), and prowl the dangerous streets at night, was walking towards her. His built chest and abdomen bare, with a very small, white sheet wrapped around casually and low, at the ends of his hips. The cloth only extended a few inches, not even reaching his mid thing, and certainly left nothing to the imagination of any wandering eyes.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, "Is that a loin cloth? Are you supposed to be Tarzan?"

He narrowed his immense, beautiful brown eyes at her, "I'm Cupid." His bronzed body glows almost brighter than the lights in the room, indeed making him have all the allure of a Greek God.

A mocking smile pursed her lips, "You just couldn't resist the need to embellish yourself, eh?"

A muscle in his jaw flexed at her annoying question, "Note the bow and arrows," he jutted his thumb to the pack on his shoulder.

She rolled her eyes at him, "Mhm." She closed her lips tightly as she held back her Cheshire grin. "The wings give it a nice touch," she traced her index finger along his white feathers. "Though, they're completely out of character for you."

"It's not really a costume," he leaned in closer to her, his bare chest admitting too much heat in its close quarters to her own body. "I've always been a God of Love," his crooked smirk embedded itself on his lips as he shamelessly flirted with her.

She nods her head, as if to almost agree with him, only to disarm him a moment later with a whisper: "Just don't go patrolling in this costume. I have a feeling the Green Arrow would strike fear into his enemies for different reasons if you did."

His laughter bellows from his lungs and he shakes his head. "Never miss an opportunity, do you?"

"You'd only be disappointed in me if I did," she grins.

His comeback never arises. His warm, ember eyes are too busy drawing over her, from the bottom of her ruby, floor length dress, to the black bodice and white corset that intertwine together, pushing her chest up, allowing him a generous view of her cleavage that's sporting one red glittered fake tattoo of an outlined heart, over the supple flesh of her left breast.

Chloe feels a shudder run down her body from the implied look in his half-closed, smoldering eyes. And with that look, despite his costume, she feels as if he's more of a hunter, than a matchmaker tonight.

And she finds herself uncomfortable, feeling his eyes linger over her, and she's pretty sure the temperature in the room is now ten degrees higher than it was a moment ago. But Oliver doesn't seem to notice. Instead, he's leaning into her even more, pushing Chloe to rest with her back against the wall as he towers over her. He rests one of his arms above her, tracing his finger over the silver crown on top of her head of blond curls.

"And you're a character from Alice in Wonderland?" He asks in a husky whisper.

She confirms with a nod, and gulps before answering; "The Queen of Hearts."

Oliver licks his lips before grinning at her, "That you are."

It may have been Halloween—but they weren't fooling anyone.

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For the Chlollie Livejournal community Halloween Fic Challenge.

Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville, nor do I claim to own any other characters therefore owned by DC comics.


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